


Unwelcomed Help?

by SpazzieBunnie



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Medieval, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:20:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30001989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpazzieBunnie/pseuds/SpazzieBunnie
Summary: This idea has been on my mind for a while. I love Medieval Fantasy, so thus, I have made a story about it! If this one shot gets well received, I will SO continue it! Enjoy the story and I hope it will entertain you!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Unwelcomed Help?

The clouds with its light blue sky and the warm sun graced upon the kingdom. The land was covered in the light of the clear afternoon. The dirt. The grass. The stoned walls. Every built-from-the-ground upped store and house was getting its share of the rays too. Including on the active busybodies that come and go through the gates and path.

Every day was not a quiet day. Talkings and dealings and clanking metal and gold were all the kingdom could head. Travellers from the far lands seeking to trade. Bounty Hunters looking to turn in their rewards. Rarely Mages having to seek potions or ingredients for said item. An occasional thief or two appears once every two weeks.

The kingdom itself was safe and sound by the guards that protect this walled home of theirs. Knights in silver armor. Their longswords by their side. Ready to draw breath and defend the home they were born and raised in. Gandeea was the name of the home that everyone worked hard to build. From the King and Queen to the villagers, everyone had the goal to make their land become greater and powerful than any other kingdom from far away. 

The kingdom was stronger and more secure in protecting the people. To form the biggest army in the country. The knights that wear their thick armor and with their sharpest blades by the finest of blacksmiths. Shields that break the hail fire of arrows. Gandeea strived to be the land that would win wars against any invaders. Well...human invaders...not monsterous beings.

Recently the territory itself has problems. Newly raiding parties of kobolds were starting to show up. The small lizard creatures with their sharp curved blades with handles made from hardened molten rocks. Their cow hide leather being their only armor to wear. Sometimes mocking the dead by wearing some of their clothing such as helmets, robes, and some carrying finger bones and teeth made necklaces.

They were a problem. Knights kept killing them, but more just keep appearing. They were nicknamed by the people of Gandeea as ‘Scaley Rabbit Rodent’. They seem to multiply like bunnies but act more like a pest in a tavern. They kept coming without any given clue as to where they were coming from. Caves in the forest were checked and there was no hidden village of Kobolds living up above the trees. The knights and the royalty were puzzled by the sudden appearance of these creatures.

Everyone was on watch. Looking down on the ground for any movement of small green and blue lizard creatures. Nobody wanted to be shanked by a knife or even a blade that was made by the hottest of lavas. Kobold weaponry was the only scary thing about the little devils. Knights who suffered cuts from their blades could feel the burning sensation of the slash. Like fire deep inside their wound. 

Their source of magic of how they keep the blades hot is just like why they are suddenly here; a mystery that will never be solved. Wizards of the high castle mentioned faintly of potions that could be coated on the blades to create the fiery hot feeling. Something to deal with lava and ashes of molten rock with a mixture of flame inducing mana potions. If used correctly, the blade would be set aflame like a torch for a short period of time. So far, no Kobold seemed smart enough to create flaming weapons.

For now, everything was going good. The practical cycle was going as followed. The simple loop of peace and order. It was supposed to be a day of isolation, until a ghastly shriek made heads turn. The group of people that weren’t around the woman that made the scream didn’t see the reason for what made her let out a horrified yell. Until another scream came forward. One that wasn’t human. The voice of a creature everyone in Gandeea knew. The scream of a Kobold warrior. Sounding like a low pitched baby dragon.

The tranquil crowd grew into a scatter. Everyone was moving in opposite directions as people yelled the name “Kobold!”. First one was called out. Then two appear on the right side of where the crowd was running. Then another pair came from behind a store and started to slash and grab pouches right out of the hands of people. 

There was no mage to stop them. The bounty hunters who came to deliver heavy brown bags were the first to be slain by the lizards and their redded hot blades. The slain bodies suffered blackened burns from where the cuts were. On their arms, on their necks, and on their heads. Their white skin showing off the darkened scorching cuts and their slashes being deep enough to show the reddish flesh turning into darker red.

The Kobolds were prepared. Some carried their short blades with the metal screaming hot temperature as it was red as fire. The few other Kobolds carried spears to stab with their tips and hit with the end of their sticks. Their goal was to steal the gold coins from fleeing people or seared corpses. 

Kobolds wanting gold is the typical nature of these small but ferocious raiders. Their dragon nature of wanting anything shiny might be the reason for wanting it. Maybe these creatures weren’t simpletons and knew it was a powerful currency. Some even made stories that Kobolds used the robbed coins to forge armor and weapons; there were cases long ago of strong Kobold warriors wearing this type of deep yellow armor.

They were stealing and taking every pouch they could fit in their leathered bags. The knights were doing their keenest to stop this small group and to slaughter them for causing blood to spill on their home ground. The blue and purple lizards were not scared of the tall metal figure that was covered head to toe in what Kobold called them “Metal Trays”.

The leader of the Kobolds, a purple and dark blue underbelly one with goggles on their eyes and having to dual wield two burning orange shortswords, told the group it was time to leave. They had enough gold to satisfy whatever their scaly souls desired. Soon all of them were making a break for the gate. For small beings, their legs ran faster than a horse could.

The knights made haste to catch up. Pushing and moving civilians out of the way while the Kobolds did so with grace to move through and with fear to split the crowd. Their tactic was working. The people jumped and slid away from the tiny menaces and their swords of torment.

The Kobolds could taste escape. The leader sticked out their tongue with a cackle with a drool of excitement coming out of their lips. The gold would be theirs, and it would be enough to do whatever they wanted. Their movement of going forward was made to a whole stop with the leader having to fall backwards and land on their back and tail.

The followers stopped as well to look back on their fallen leader. Their eyes looked over to see the leader looking only up at the sky. The mouth agape in shock. Both eyes widened with the leader not moving. All because of one slim but long stick protruding from their chest. Right directly where the heart was. A fatal hit that ceased all movement and all life from the leader.

The one-Kobold-downed group looked forward to them. As they were busy trying to scare and shoo away the crowd, they failed to witness what the leader saw with their eyes before meeting their demise. Standing tall was a figure in a cloak. A foot taller than a knight. The only thing that wasn’t covered was their boots. Yellow tinted metal boots. Something a powerful barbarian would wear.

The Kobolds had fear growing within them. Their leader was dead and a standing figure with their face and body being covered by a dark brown cloak stood in their way. In the strangers gloved hands was a smoothed wooden crossbow with a strap dangling. The Kobolds readied their blades and pointed at the figure. Warning them with a hiss to back away or suffer weeks or even months of burns.

The figure said nothing. Only using one hand to pull the tightrope back to ready the crossbow. Only staring at the creatures with hidden eyes. The rope was close to connecting to the groove while one Kobold with a spear decided that waiting was over. Now was the time to charge. 

It charged at the tall figure in an attempt to rally the others to join them in the fight. The spear was aimed and ready to thrust into flesh. The rope stayed in place of the groove with the trigger being ready to fire. The stranger that used the hand that pulled the string back was now reaching behind their own back to grab an arrow all the while the Kobold warrior inched closer.

For some reason in the mind of the lizard creature, it jumped and moved the spear away. Instead of going for a stab, it was going to do a slash. Their claws and leg strength gave them a good leverage to jump high to be facing head to head with this new foe. The strangers hand pulled over and in the grip was an arrow that was ready to be in the crossbow. Yet this newcomer wasn’t going to reload; a clear indication of that was the tip was aimed downward.

In quick pace the arm went forward and the tip was going right for the neck of the Kobold. It was all about speed that determined the winner. A slick noise was made. Of flesh being stabbed and a thin weapon going through the body. The victorious being was the one in cloak as the Kobold dropped their spear and held with both hands on the arm of their vicious and dangerous obstacle. 

The arm moved back and the crimsoned dripping arrow was pulled out and the Kobold fell with a thud. No movement just like their fallen leader. As if angered by losing two of their proudest warriors, the group had enough and decided to charge. Ready to slice and dice without caring for how much blood would cover their bodies and blades.

The stranger was quick to get themselves ready for a fight. In sharp movement the butt of the crossbow was on the shoulder and the hand on the bottom of the stand and the other hand on the trigger. A quick shot was made and the arrow came flying. The tip meeting directly on the leg of one from behind the other two. 

The two Kobolds didn’t care that one of their own had fallen. They only cared to end this danger or at least escape on through. This tall being was not going to let them live to see the end of the day. With the crossbow needing to be reloaded and the Kobolds ready to slice with their scorching blades, this stranger's weapon was not going to be good enough for these good.

Rather than toss it aside, both hands were able to grab the stock and raise it up over the shoulder. One Kobold charged and was ready to stab the leg of the enemy. Yet it was halted by a harsh blow to the face by the hardened bow. It was hard enough to have the creature be flown to the side and in mid air let go of the sword and fall down right into the crowd that started to separate to be away from the creature that fell on its side. A keen knight marched over before the Kobold could gain composure and try to get itself up. The knight's broadsword swinged and cut through part of the upper torso like it was butter. It was sliced in half and quick to die without making a noise.

The other Kobold ran and swung its blade and only got to cut a piece of the robe. The stranger's luck increased as they took another swing and was able to get the bow to hit the attacker right on the chin. In the process of wood meeting scaly skin, the bow broke apart with pieces flying out and the string barely hanging the last piece of the bow; The Kobold that got to suffering from the hard hit was knocked on their back with the blade still in hand.

With the weapon being useless now, it was time for the stranger to no longer wield this wooden defensive weapon. It was time for the stranger's secret weapon to be used. One that would make a person seem crazy to use in a situation like this. Hand to hand combat. Before the Kobold could bounce back up and get ready for a fight, its arm was stomped on by the metal boot that refused to not stop pushing it down. 

The Kobold’s wrist was trying to swing but to no avail. It screamed loudly like a prepubescent dragon to try to frighten this opponent. No shudder came from the stranger. It pressed its foot further on the Kobolds arm. The lizard's other arm was going to be met with the same fate until it moved and clawed at the part of the leg just above the boot to try to get that crushing foot off its almost broken arm. 

No flinch. No instinct of moving the leg. Only a grunt came from the hood. A grunt of anger instead of pain that the Kobold wanted to hear. The small lizard’s eyes grew with its pupils turning into the shape of an icicle. It screamed again to strike at least some sort of fear. It failed horribly as instead of showing any sign of backing down, the stranger lifted their other leg and slammed down on the snout and head of the Kobold over and over again.

Three rapid stomps was all it took to bring a loud crunch to end this crazed Kobold. Blood splattering on the boots as the foot finally letted go of the limp arm. Four down. One more to go. The stranger turned their head to see the Kobold attempting to flee. Hopping on one leg with the help of a spear to keep them up. To a kind person it would be cruel to end the life of this injured creature. To everyone here it was nothing but a thief that had the pouches of gold on the leathered belt and trying to escape with the goods.

It was time to finish it. The strange barely showed a sign of limping as it walked over and getting their knuckles ready to tear apart the Kobold. The last creature knew its death was coming yet was attempting to move faster with one hop. The Kobold could feel death itching closer to it. And it did. Not by the hands of this powerful tall monster, but by the sharp end of a blade that separated its head from its body. The body fell forward and the head rolled behind til the neck stump landed on the ground. 

The Kobold’s tiny reptilian pointed ears stood up from the meresecond shock of getting a sword slicing its head off and eyes showing the pain it was enduring with the arrow still in its leg. All thanks to the similar knight that slaid its brethren in the crowd.

The knight looked up at the tall stranger who stood still without showing any shakes. No need to vomit from the scratches. No face to show how deeply they were hurt. He couldn’t believe he found someone that was two foot taller than him. The bravest squires stood behind the knight in defense. 

“Stranger...I thank you for saving us from this Kobold threat and stopping them from killing any more good people and from taking the gold.” Only a nod was made by the heroic stranger. The knight continued. “Do you wish to seek some medicine and stitches to tend to your wounds?”

The stranger looked down at their torn cloak. A good scratch was there by their leg. No blood squirting out. Just a slow stream of blood oozing out. Still, it looked as if it did need care and to be treated for dealing with these Kobolds. Those creatures can have the sharpest claws. More sharper than a bear’s claw. The stranger looked back at the knight who started to have a couple of other metal wearing guards like him join in to see the slayer of the Kobolds.

“Does the wizard Maldruid live here?” The stranger's voice was deep. The words they said were enough to invoke some people in the crowd to whisper a conversation. Terror in their body language suggested that they knew what this stranger was. More specifically, what race they were. Some of the whisperers were older gentlemen that have sworn they heard that type of voice from many years ago.

The knight showed no fear in his armor. Having to lift up his visor to show his skin and face to prove he wasn’t like the crowd. “Yes. He lives in the castle with King Richmen and Queen Martha.”

The stranger looked to their right side. There it stood. The castle of the kingdom. Standing proud but fierceful to enemies. The stranger was no enemy. Only someone that was looking for somebody important. They looked back at the knight who still showed no alarm. The stranger began to have both arms move and their hands grabbing the hood. They pulled the hood down, revealing the identity of what they were. Most in the crowd letted out an unease gasp. Those that made that noise were the ones who were right on what this stranger was.

The stranger was a race that was known for destroying. For raiding. For laying waste to villages and known for their barbarian nature. The stranger was a female Orc. A strong race that still continues to create havoc to bystanders to travelling merchants to even villages with barely any protection. They were worse than a Kobold. They stopped for nothing, and their raw strength was just as deadly as their axes.

The knights themselves were readying to unsheath if this Orc was going to create a chaotic fight. The one knight did show dismay but was the only one to not dare think of drawing their blade. 

The female Orc stood with braided black hair with the rest of her hair in a short ponytail. Her Orc ears had a couple of ear rings; three on each side. Her green face had four lined light red warpaint on her right cheek, a symbol that showed she was right handed. She had two small fangs protruding from her bottom lip. Her almost flattish nose was small but smooth just like the rest of her skin.

To Orcs, she was a powerful warrior in training. Ready to climb the ropes to become a barbarian that would burn anything that stood in the way and take what is rightfully hers. To people, she was a monster that was ready to kill and take anything they see fit. Orcs were worse than Kobolds. Kobolds only wanted shiny gold while Orcs would take anything. Fruit, food, weapons and alcohol. Anything they see as a need AND a want.

The unwelcomed Orc showed no care for what the others were thinking right now. All she cared about was meeting this wizard. “Well? Will you take me to Maldruid?”

The knight nodded as he got himself to return to reality. Seeing an Orc like her was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Especially when she was tall, was strong, and was a tough fighter. A strange combination that fixated the knight. “Yes ma’am. I will lead you to him.” He steps forward as his brothers in armor were ready to fully pull out their broadswords. “Mind I ask for your name?”

The Orc looked at the knight who was staring up at her. She had to admit that for a knight, he seemed braver than these ones who were too afraid to move an inch. This fellow knight must have fought a dragon before she thought or at least was born without fear.

“I am Shezadora.” She looked down and looked him in his green eyes. The knight had to admit, he never thought to see an Orc with blue and purple eyes before. “I come in peace and only seek to find a lost friend. For I know that your kingdom is plagued with these devils. I need to see him and talk with him about this issue”

“Are you saying that...you will help us defend Gandeea against the Kobolds?”

“Not defend...” She started to form a smile. “I will help slaughter every single one of those lizards.”

The knight could feel his need to gulp from hearing and even thinking of the idea that this Orc was ready to kill an unknown number of Kobolds. They were small but were very deadly in groups. The more there was, the more likely you would die. It sounded like a deathwish, but Shezadora wasn’t human after all.

“Well...I will take you to wizard Maldruid right away. The sooner we can get rid of them, the better.”

“Yes…” Shezadora went over to her crossbow and squatted down to pick it up. The broken weapon still has the string on it with the bow pieces still all over the ground. “I also hope that my crossbow will be fixed and back into working condition.”

“Of course. I will make sure our craftsman will bring back your weapon in perfect condition.” The knight sounded courteous even while knowing who he was talking to. It was best to be civil in a time like this.

“Good.” Shezadora looked up and saw the castle again. It was a good walk, but her leg wound wasn’t as bad. She will make it up there. She placed the broken crossbow by the side while still having a firm grip. “Lead the way, knight. It’s time to see an old partner of mine.”


End file.
